Peeking is Not Wrong, Not Really
by Namekiansgottalovethem
Summary: Megatron is having a bad day. Apparently everything is his fault. To make things worse he just can't help himself. It's only an itty-bitty teenie tiny peek! If they didn't want to get spied on they should have been quieter. (Redone! Because I originally did Frenzy & Rumbles colors like in the comic. For the majority who watched the cartoon I went back & switched their frame colors)


**Disclaimer: ****I do not own Transformers or a single one of it's characters. Pity, really, cuz it's so dam good.**

**A/N: **Okay...so I know I have those other two DBZ stories going but I refuse to finish them with writers block. Please forgive me. This is my first transformers story to be posted on ff but, not my first. I had to get this one off my chest. So there.

**WARNINGS: **This here is a M rated ficlet containing mech/mech relations. You don't like? Good, no one will bite your finger off for pushing the back button. No likey the sticky? Then I feel most aggrieved for you. These guys are machines, robots, and human ideals don't mean scrap to them. Plus there is some wall abusing...light wall abusing.

Also, I might have mixed up verses so don't flip out on me please, but it's been years since I've seen the series.

I typed this up late at night so if there are any typos please forgive me!

Summary: Megatron is furious! TIC, Soundwave, couldn't be more wrong! Megatron is _**not**_ the sole reason victory has evaded the Decepticons for so long. And how in the frag is getting to know his troops personal lives going to change anything? What-...what are Rumble and Frenzy doing?

Here it goes...

**Peeking is Not Wrong, Not Really**

_**He**_ should make it _**his**_ priority to _'attain the specifics'_ of his subordinate's personal lives?

_**His**_ little _'world of aloofness'_ regarding their cycle to cycle doings was the underlying reason all his plans and plots failed so _'pathetically'_!?

_**HIS FAULT!?**_

Megatron's clenched fist made fast friends with the cool wall in a lone hallway deep within the Nemesis. The resounding clang reached his audios before the sharp sting of his mini tantrum fully enveloped the nerve wiring of his outstretched servo. Multiple waves of pain bearing pulses launched through his mech arm, down his battle scarred chassis, and right into the tips of his warlord pedes. Oh...Primus...stupid, that was dumb. Ouch.

Luckily for them, not a spark co-inhabited the hall with Lord Megatron or he'd have had to dismantle them circuit by data filled circuit, for nobot could could hear the almighty Megatron whimper and remain online. The angry mech cradled his dented hand and not so much as growled, but spat Soundwave's designation. The Telepath, without a doubt, his most dedicated loyalist -Megatron winced as another came to mind- …..well, his most devoted follower whom possessed a functioning processor. (he decided Lugnut didn't count) And now Soundwave, the ever trusted TIC, had inadvertently enrolled himself on Megatron's 'Mechs to Scrap' list. He had already mentally stamped Soundwave's named right under that of a certain Prime, who held the unfortunate slot of first on the hit list.

Megatron knew his TIC had the figurative human term 'guts', only one of the many quality's that had earned the visored mech his position, but Soundwave's abstract and tactful way of conversing had conjoined with a sudden bout of snide crass that disarmed the warlord. The blue rust pole had the gall to imply that the sorry state of the Decepticon faction was due to the inattentiveness of one Lord Megatron. Soundwave and his allegations had taken themselves over the shallow ditch that is Megatron's tolerance-for-no-bot pit.

Megatron's cooling systems rose to their maximum level of operation as he recalled how Soundwave had relayed his observations to his higher up so swiftly and cunningly worded that the feared gray mech only stuttered in a bewildered stupor as Soundwave marched his smug aft past him. It was when the hidden meanings finally clicked with his CPU that the dreaded commander felt the raging need to pound the closest thing to metal dust.

Turns out the illustrious leader of the Decepticons is no match for the... walls.

Oooh, he was going to give himself so much scrap for that! Everything was turning sour on Megatron lately. Energon raids...a bust. Meticulously plotted Autobot assassinations...failures. Unity and comradeship among his soldiers...well, nobots been offlined in like- a week? Tense sit-downs to try and reach common grounds that would appeal to both factions...he couldn't remember the last one he'd attended. And now Megatron was at odds with the vertical divider of rooms within his own ship...and it was biting him on the aft. Not one thing was pulling through for him and apparently (if Soundwave was anything to go by) it was all his doing!

He tilted his helm back to scream his frustrations when a muffled voice sounded from inside a sealed storage unit not three yards away. Huh?

Curiosity rarely toys with the Megster, but when it does come around, in short hand, it doesn't play FAIR. His large gray body edged subconsciously closer to the closed door and his spark stirred, tugging at him to find out what was closeted in the suddenly conspicuous room. His reason processor hollered at him to head back to his quarters, to his overburdened desk, heavy laden with data pads; to accomplish something productive.

The voice spoke again, muffled by the solid barrier and small circular glass pane.

Yes, productive, that's what he'd do.

Unmistakably a second voice joined the first, noticed by the lower frequencies at which they talked.

Why waste his precious time with the goings on of his lackeys? Their affairs were meaningless when compared to his own. Curiosity grinned.

_'Affairs is a pretty word with a large amusing range of meanings. If you get my drift.' _it whispered conspiratorially.

"it's probably nothing!" Megatron argued, "Just some bots meeting up to discuss...stuff."

_'Yeah, probably. Be that as it may, to get back to your berthroom your going to have to pass by that door. Right past that convenient little window there.'_ Was it just him, or did Curiosity's laugh sound hideously underhanded?

Maybe if he booked it as fast as his pedes could afford he would make it out of the corridor incident free. When he came to the particular section of flooring right in front of the storage unit his pedes stuck like glue. And Maybe not. He must be experiencing a minor malfunction in the leg joints that provided forward momentum. Yeah, that's it! Megatron refused the urge to face the glass and peer inside. Then it happened.

There, just then! That reverberating drawn-out vocalizer belonging to the first voice did nothing other than moan.

"Oh, Cmon'!" Megatron hissed at the exited bouncing happening within his spark chamber. "Please!" he begged it.

The malfunction seemed to have progressed to involuntary migration because the next thing he registered was the light fogging of the small window, created by his ex-vents, centimeters from his face plate. Unwilling to be respectful anymore, Megatron sighed, wiped the glass for better visibility, and set his optics to the sight inside.

Holy-Primus-loving-sealed-mech!

Rumble had a bot pinned up against one in a row of energon barrels and was quite sufficiently sucking Frenzy's face.

Megatron's optics widened comically in disbelief. He didn't think they should be engaging each other in such...activities. He didn't think he should be _watching _them during such activities either. This was an unsuspected development in the light in which he had always viewed the cassettes and he should turn that light off and proceed to his place of business in a calm Warlordly fashion. Yes. No. Yes...uuurrgh.

Megatron went to push himself away from the dirty secret holding door, then stopped when the recent words of a mech, a pompous, over orderly mech (Soundwave), sprung themselves up for a second inspection. Megatron's sharp lips contorted in a sudden twitchy deviant grin that would've sent Optimus Prime into instant convulsions. If Megatron had any hopes for his triumph over an Autobot ruled society he needed to get chummy and up close with his Decepticons, right? That's basically what his sound-thinking TIC had suggested as a concerned adviser, right? Right, and Soundwave always gave great advise. Who would Lord Megatron be to deny his intelligence officer's infamous wisdom? Not a decent bot, and that's the ugly truth.

Without a hint of guilt Megatron leaned forward and overrode the lock on the door. Sliding it open a tad bit so he could properly hear the two smaller mech's relations.

O_O

"How long did...y-you say we have?" Frenzy gasped against his brother's assaulting metallic lips.

"Sixty earth minutes," Rumble murmured into their rough kiss.

Frenzy huffed, turning his helm to the side, abruptly cutting Rumble off, "Less than a quarter of a breem? That's not enough time to do jack!"

"Time enough for me to do yours."

"But the security rooms' two floors up and on the other side of this floating rust bucket! We have com duty- ah! - ...slaggit Rumble unhand me!"

"No, I don't believe I will." Not letting Frenzy's 'cold pedes' deter him from their first interface in Mega-cycles, Rumble's deft glossa darted out to glide along tense neck cables. This gained him an enraged cry and a poorly aimed helmbutt.

Frenzy began to wriggle his way out of his lighter counterpart's encompassing embrace. His brother's... possessive, fulfilling, safe embrace. The sweet haven into which the red and black cassette fell when only the steady thrumming of a particular spark against the alloy casting of his cheek could calm his own racing life-force. Frenzy's intended escape faltered fractionally, his self-preserving sense to avoid getting caught clocking in late momentarily abandoned. It was nice here, now, secure in Rumble's strong hold.

But it would be twice as bad getting reamed by the Screamer! They could find the time for this later. A not-on-duty kind of later. Blue fingers snuck their way to the hidden clasps holding the outer armor plates snug in place.

Frenzy jerked and blustered, "Our absent afts are bound to get noticed and they'll come looking! Suspicious Decepticons are double trouble! Starscream will-"

"Frenzy!" Rumble cut him off.

There was a faint puff of decompressed air and with an easy tug the lighter mech's chassis plates were removed, inviting hungry optics to take in the gray-coral pink protoform flesh of Frenzy's exposed torso. With his exterior hulk gone Frenzy became more lithe and nonthreatening in appearance. Slightly curved metal lines parallel to each other outlined the smooth middle of plated belly. Wires and cabling poked out of transformation seams to disappear under the enticing vents surrounding the steel-colored spark chamber fitted snugly in the protected cavity of Frenzy's upper chest. When blown upon the circulating lines quivered and retracted as much as possible. Sensitive, Frenzy.

Rumble allowed himself a pleased groan as he carefully set down the box-shaped hunk of chassis armor so that he had two servos free to touch his bonded any and every way he wished. He knew this frame, every nick, contour, and junction, down to the teeniest minute threading of contact wires. He loved this figure, all the distinct grooves, and quirky hotspots that differentiated themselves from all others to be, unmistakeably, Frenzy. Rumble desired, craved, and fed off this body because, for him, it was more exquisitely sustaining than the finest fuel that even Primus could proffer. Unashamedly, the proud cassetticon could admit that he needed this form he held so dearly to his Decepticon spark. Needed every action, emotion, and sweet word that he could gain from the transformer designated, Frenzy. And to prove all that and more he relentlessly strove to please his spark's kindred spirit. In every way there is...including fragging Frenzy's hot aft into every able surface until he was high on cloud energon.

Oh, that was the best idea ever to be processed in the verse!

Leaning in, Frenzy's servos still pinned and useless to help his false plight, Rumble tongued the very clasp that had so willingly betrayed its master moments before, eliciting Frenzy's current stark state. (Megatron got a full and appreciated view of Frenzy's exposed protoskin as Rumble's blue helm dipped lower and out of sight.) The taste made Rumble's grip tighten as his interfacing panel heated, an automatic response conditioned from orns of intimate contact with his appealing bonded. Needlessly bidden fluids of a personal nature filled his mouth, ready for use.

A panicked cry had the liquids swallowed just as rapidly as they had been produced, "W-WAIT!"

Scraping complications...

Frenzy struggled to find his voice, "R-umble, please-...I-I will give you the remainder of my breems off after duty. Don't think I don't want you right now- because Primus can testify I do and your making this extremely difficult -but I...we... Starscream... detention holding cell...s-seperated for cycles like last time!... I can't-"

A quick hand forced the rest of Frenzy's troubles silent, "Frag the Screamer."

Muffled, *But-*

"I'll claim a solid master owes me. We can take our breaks right now."

Frenzy's optics displayed doubt.

Rumble sighed, "Anything could frag us over at any given second. The Autobots could grow processors and blow us to smithereens. Our divinely appointed leader could get a sudden epiphany and call us out to our inevitable deactivations (Neither cassette heard the scoff from behind the cracked door). My spark chamber could instantaneously combust. Primus, in an unlikely act of sanity, could come to his senses and flit us away to be his invincible bouncers of justice and all that peace mumbo-jumbo. I am tired of this Frenzy... the war.. all of it. We are as close to victory as Screamer is to offing Lord Megatron's shadow. But you are a constant, the only thing I'll ever have going for me and I want you. Right. Now."

If that can't melt your processors the sun doesn't have a chance. The inappreciably larger mech chuckled as his bonded's slighter frame sagged in resigned surrender.

The leaner bot swallowed thickly, "You have 1,701 clicks starting now."

Rumble's speeding CPU translated the clicks into earth time. 56.7 minutes. All the time in the world. And just like that everything was back to normal. Kicking the discarded chassis out of their way Rumble whisked Frenzy around and slammed him to the floor.

With the cool temperature of the flat surface against his open backstrut Frenzy lay before his bonded, looking so open and inviting. Spreading his trembling legs, Frenzy paused and emitted a timid string of Cybertorian chirps and whistles while rolling his hips. There was a chain reaction of pops and the shielding plates adorning his servos and hips clattered to the ground. Bare, sleek, gorgeous, and submitting in the most vulnerable display of trust, Frenzy cooed to his bonded. The air they shared grew thick and intense with every passing nano-click. Soon enough Rumble's external plating had been shed and gathered in a pile alongside of his brother's. Unlike Frenzy, Rumble wasn't in the least 'femmey' in protoform, less boxey perhaps, but every bit mech. He dropped to his jointed knees and pulled his other half to him by his charcoal hips.

Rumble's intakes came roughly and shallow, "_**Frenzy**_."

The low music of the lighter's desire voiced would do their father proud as it was practically a sonnet. The tone brought and anticipatory shudder and soft moan from Frenzy. He could feel the thrum of his core awakening and his valve constrict, trying vainly to feel a nonexistent spike. Lubricant began to trickle into his quivering tightness, coating the node riddled walls. What he would give-

Rumble was down and all over Frenzy then, tracing every seam and protruding coil, paying special attention to the rim of the spark chamber. Frenzy's cogs quaked and ached as the subtle digits dug their way into slotted vents to scrape along his inner softness.

"AH!" Frenzy clutched at the fingers imbedded in his chest cavities, "I...thought you said- oh!- you wanted me now?!"

Music to Rumbles audios.

Frenzy gave a little yelp as his codpiece was palmed heavily. His legs tried to squeeze together, on their own accord, and trap the naughty hand in the mounting fire between his smooth thighs. Rumble stilled, engine roaring to sudden life, and his frame instantly heated. Frenzy's optics widened at his slight and terribly significant action. The rules, although accidental on his part, had been changed. Spark whirling madly, he slowly brought his helm up to see. His brothers smoldering smirk stilled and froze the fuel in his tanks.

Oh, Primus have mercy...

In a flash the sensitive interfacing array was covered no more, it's protective panel skittered across the floor to join the other pieces of its matching armor. A blur and grunt later Frenzy was face to face with Rumble, his midsection curled inward, bringing his hips a few inches away from kissing his spark chamber. Shaking legs were hiked over broad shoulders, black pedes resting on the middle of Rumble's blue and lavender backstrut.

Frenzy shuddered when he felt hot air on the underside of his jaw.

"Hmmm..." Rumble breathed into the curve of Frenzy's neck cables, "I'm parched my sweetbot." A hot glossa squirmed its way in between two particular cables, lecherously plundering airy cries from it's victim. Rumble smiled knowingly, Frenzy never lasted long when that special node hidden along his inner throat's enamel was overstimulated.

Frenzy's core panged with growing arousal as his trigger spot was glossa-fragged, his head whipping from side to side, "N-no! NaAH! Not like thissss...I-need..."

Rumble broke away, chuckling, "Your so right, spikeable! My thirst simply can't be quenched by this alone."

Pastel digits, finding their way back to Frenzy's neglected abdomen, twisted a bundle of fuel cables and pulled roughly while pinching off the main coolant lines. With no cooling energon to stay the liquid fire Frenzy's extended limbs took to the flames and he screamed. The room spun and his optics clouded over with overbearing need as the liquid napalm surged through his lines to pool in the right spot. That wonderful place...

"You know what I want," Rumble hissed, "Give it to me!"

That was it. All it took for Frenzy to let go, and he gushed. Spurts of lubricant covering his thighs and Rumble's knees, dripping down to create a puddle on the floor.

"Good bot," Rumble praised in a low sultry voice, "So edible. So rich. All mine. You'll let me- won't you, sweetspark? Please?"

Frenzy blanked (Rumble expected and actual coherent answer?), "I-I-"

"Oh, thank you!"

"Oh! Ah!...*gargled nonsense*"

Frenzy was too uptight with excitement, the clenching entrance of his wet valve resisting fiercely, and yet the tips of four prodding fingers fought each other for breaching rights. After a few well positioned, distracting love bites the port gave a little and two digits wriggled their way in. Frenzy whimpered at the burn, his favorite of sensations, and thrust his hips greedily in time with the thick invaders. Rumble curled his fingers and swirled them in easy circles, the movements fast and light, softly flicking over a bunch of receptive nodes that buzzed and ached under all the tender attention. It was maddening! The light sweeps across his sweet spots weren't hard enough to get Frenzy to that euphoric mountain of processor crashing overload, but they were pressing just enough to make him squeal and writhe; to fight against the servo that went to pin his hips down. This was so good. It could be better. The slight friction was incomplete and the width of the digits lacking. Frenzy needed more and Rumble, that no good bucket of rust-sludge, was torturing him, and if the nasty twisting of his lips was anything to go by, reveling in Frenzy's distress.

Removing himself from his brother completely and laughing at the enraged cry that brought, Rumble brought his hand to his face to partake of Frenzy's coppery essence.

"Mmmmm...Oh...you taste good, mechling. Just the right tang of minerals, like orns aged, fine-grade energon. So tasty and satisfying. What else have you to offer, and shall I take it from you forcefully?..."

Rumble drove two digits into the soaking port and roughly spread them apart, opening his bonded's hot pleasure hole wide enough to see the quivering walls spam, and hear the wet squelches as it tried to clamp down on the blunt fingers. Frenzy mewled and kicked frantically at the ground as the cables in his thighs went taunt and glitched like crazy.

"...or gently and soft, just how you prefer it?"

There was a space of time in which all was still, Frenzy's optics blown wide as he heard an unmistakable clink, Rumbles face plates softed and his gaze held only affection and true desire. A full hardness rubbing its tip questioningly against the gaping valve. Frenzy had but to answer.

And he did, by reaching up with unsteady servos to cup his sparkmate's sharp face in the palms of his metal hands, and pull him down till his warm intakes breathed against their parted lips, "Rumble...please?"

Rumble crossed the centimeter separating their kiss and swallowed Frenzy's relieved sob as he smoothy sank his spike in his cherished brother's wanting depths. Rolling black hips with precised slowness, Rumble made _it_ with his _**one**_, his constant forever.

Frenzy gasped and whimpered, he was full, so full, not only with hot spike, but with- dare his Decepticon spark admit it -love. It wasn't a newly introduced emotion, orns old in fact, and both cassettes were very aware of it's presence (they never would have spark bonded without it). It was simply taboo among their faction to let the endearment pass from their usually sneering lips, the word being 'unmechly' and a very 'Autobotish' thing in the optics of Decepticons. Frenzy had entered this relationship with the solid belief that he'd never whisper it into his bonded's audios, not even once.

Now though... as Rumble moved in him, slow yet hard and deep, knowing the right clusters of hypersensitive nodes to strike against and please Frenzy so...

Both of their swollen sparks pressed up against their chambers, as close as they could be together without sparkmating, hands clasped while Rumble's powerful strokes connected them on a heightened level of physical ecstasy...

The feeling of every inch, ridge, and the subtle curve of his model brother's thick spike driving relentlessly into his tight, rippling port, successfully drawing Cybertorian cries of bliss from Frenzy's slack mouth... maybe... just maybe...

"R-Rumble-" he choked out, his courage waning fast.

"Faster? You got it...hmm..Primus, Frenzy, you're so fragging tight. So good. My, Frenzy." Rumble, oblivious to Frenzy's inner emotional struggle, pulled his length almost all the way out, the constricting valve fighting determinedly to keep him there, before slamming back in and starting a faster, easy rhythm. Diving into the curve of his partners neck Rumble, once again, forced his glossa into the barely accessible crevice of Frenzy's vibrating neck cables. Not a nano-click later _'the'_ node was found and given a hard lick.

"N-...nnnnggh- AAHH!" Frenzy's engine roared to life, screaming in harmony with Rumble's. A flood of newly released lubricant began seeping out of Frenzy's port, slicking both mech's thighs, Frenzy's aft, and Rumble's lower abdomen.

Frenzy saw flashes of light that resembled cannon fire when the tip of Rumble's massive spike hit the end of his port, "Rumble! Harder. Deeper. Right t-here- just like that!"

Rumble couldn't see straight, the snug heat of the impossibly tight valve bringing him inevitably closer to overload. The mere fact that it was Frenzy wrapped around him, squeezing him, driving him crazy, wasn't helping him to last longer at all. Wanting his bonded to loose it at the same moment as him, Rumble pounded into Frenzy so desperately fast and hard that they slid along the floor with each fevered thrust, snailing their way across the small room till Frenzy's helm bumped against the sliding metal door.

Even while trapped in this vortex of all things Rumble, Frenzy tried his best to voice his sudden need to let his sparkmate know how he- that he wasn't afraid to say it aloud, "R-Rumble... I-I..oh, oh, oh, Oh!"

He was nearly there, his spark convulsing heavily, engine blasting, the molten fire in his fuel lines coursing throughout his shaking frame, making him feel weightless- unreal. Rumble was right there with him, drowning in Frenzy's every action and cry.

Frenzy couldn't take it, he _**had**_ to know, "I-...La- Love. You!"

Rumble screamed Frenzy's designation into his neck cables and together they reached the top and rode the blazing waves of blessed overload, indulging themselves in the electric chemistry orns of being together had worked into their anatomy. Rumble's strength gave and he rolled them over onto their sides, holding each other as their systems de-fragged and rebooted.

Clinging to his brave, and only _**love**_, Rumble's CPU finally fritzed, "I...love you too."

Well if he'd ever planned on downright shocking Rumble into near stasis-lock , Frenzy could scratch that off his bucket list.

O_O

Megatron's optics would get stuck on their highest bright setting if he didn't shutter them soon.

That was... (So fraggn' hot?)

Umm... (Spike pressurizing? Valve wetting?)

Well... (Processor crashing? Spark stalling?)

ENLIGHTENING! Yeah, that's right! Now, with this newly acquired data he could- ...(Get himself off in his berthroom?)

Oh, Megs you are so fragged it's not even remotely humorous.

The mighty Lord Megatron stumbled away from the storage unit, helm in his hands, cheek plating flushed with guilt, and arousal. He then slipped and came crashing down. When the sound of his sudden landing bounced it's merry way down the halls the downed mech groaned, biting his lower pouting lip and praying nobot heard that. The warlord was many things, but clumsy was not even a word his processors registered in his vocabulary. It had to have been something else that made him take a hard one to the helm. He had slipped on something! On...?

He looked down.

Light-pink sticky ran down his legs in gory looking streams. Further searching showed that the entire floor area by _**that**_ cursed room's door was covered as well.

Well, isn't that just great.

Who was an expendable bot he could summon to clean his private juices up off the floor? It couldn't be any of his officers. (After the deed was done they'd have to go, of course.)

Ugh! Why had he done that!? There are numerous other ways to interact with his Decepticons and pry his way into their cycles. Oh, that's right, it was because of Soundwave! It was clearly the TIC's fault.

Megatron winced as his spike covering's futile efforts to keep him sheathed became painfully apparent. Megatron clenched his fists and bared his denta. This was simply not happening! Soundwave's advice was unhelpful and- well, no. He had learned quite a great deal about his crafty, sly, recon cassettes. Actually he was very glad he had gotten to see so many sides of them, having never really given them much thought outside of surprise strategies. Yes, he could definitely use this knowledge later, either for juicy blackmail, or tactful advantages. Did many of his soldiers have deep bonds like that? Were they just as complicated? And when did Frenzy get so flexible? Holy, Primus Rumble's passion was- STOP! Hold it right there.

Megatron tried to ignore the pulsing ache of his lower regions as he cleared his thoughts. He would learn from this experience and somehow it would help him, however little that may be, to get a better hold on his troops and maybe they could pull their helms out of their afts and finally win this war! Besides if his other Decepticons behaved anything like Frenzy and Rumble, then life could get _real_ interesting around his boring ship. Maybe getting all buddy-buddy with his flunkies wasn't so bad. Maybe even enjoyable. Maybe his third in command was a total genius, who deserved a promotion.

That's when he heard a distinct screechy voice wail a floor above him. "You junk-for-brains are insufferably incompetent! I specifically requested middle-grade energon, two data pads, and that defective stellar-warp sail brought to my quarters: _**Not**_ dismantled! You couldn't frag the right side of a seeker if he was strapped down and had signs pointing out his port for you! And even if you could read he'd have to hold your hand and give you the oral play by play! Gaaaah! Never mind, I'll fragging do it myself!"

Megatron's grin was positively vile as he activated his private com, /Oh, Starscream? Yes, I require your assistance on level four, third corridor down from the wash racks. No, you needn't bring anything. Just you./

He could see it now! Soundwave: Executive intelligence officer!

**The end!**

**A/N: **So that's the stupid fic that's been hindering the completion of my other two stories! Well, please feel free to review! I love comments. n.n review pleeasee! I hope you liked it.


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